


Things Remembered

by nightwindcreations



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, F/M, M/M, Memories, Multi, Not Season/Series 03 Compliant, Sherlock is Not a Virgin, Unilock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 13:57:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1187817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightwindcreations/pseuds/nightwindcreations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John get a new neighbor, and John gets a look into his best friends past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things Remembered

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a couple years ago, never really had the courage to post it, since it has an original character (that is not a child) in a significant role.

He opened the door to start up the stairs, stopping cold before the first step.  
He knew about her, of course he knew, Mrs. Hudson had told him that someone was moving into the flat below him (so please be careful about what you blow up), but this was beyond anything even he could expect. Now he knew what Mycroft had been so cheerful about for the past month. 

~~~~~~~~  
They were arguing, about him, more than with him. They wanted him out of the way, out of the country. That is what it came down to, it had nothing to do with the school they chose for him, and everything to do with how far away it was. So he left, wondering if they would even notice that he was gone. He shook his head, “why is this even an issue?” he must have said it aloud, because his brother answered him “it’s the drugs Sherlock, well, the drugs and Victor” he frowned at his older brother, “as long as I keep my ‘end’ up, it is no concern of theirs” Mycroft sighed, “of course it is, image Sherlock, image is everything”. Sherlock jumped up and slammed his door on his brother, who stepped back smiling when he did. He locked the door and reached under his bed, pulling out his kit, he needed to calm his mind and focus he took out a needle and tape. A few moments later sprawled out on the bed his head stopped swimming. 

The next week he was in America?   
Dear God could they have chosen a place that was farther removed from, well, everything? 

South Bend Indiana, Notre Dame, he sighed while unpacking in the dorm. His roommate had already laid claim to everything he wanted. Fantastic, the popular type, that was used to getting his way with whoever he wanted. “now, if you will excuse me” his roommate (Brian) said “I need a date for tonight, don’t bother waiting up for me” he said with a good natured smile, as he left. He finished putting away the last of his clothes and hid everything that he didn’t want “Brian” to know about. Looking around the room, he debated pulling out his kit again, if only out of boredom, thought better of it and started looking up his classes, he may as well introduce himself to his professors if only to prove they had a genius in their midst. “Which one first” he mumbled as he looked at his schedule, settling on Dr Howard, Calculus. With luck this wouldn’t be boring.   
~~~~~~

He took another step towards the stairs looking in the open door of her flat, memories flooding back so quickly it was barely more than a heart beat since he slowed from a run, he put a hand up to quiet John behind him. He knew the words that were going to come from him and he wasn’t ready, not for this, not just yet.

~~~~~~~~  
He was talking to Dr Howard about the class when she cleared her throat from the doorway, when Dr Howard looked up with a smile “Amanda, what can I do for you today” she cleared the space between them easily enough, he looked at her quickly, younger than him by a year, most likely, so 18, pretty not overly so, hands full of books and papers, sandy blond hair just past her shoulder blades, nothing worth noting, unless she came to him later for “extra tutoring” he smiled inwardly. Why does Mycroft still believe him a virgin?

Something she said caused him to start “what was that?” he asked both of them.

“I said, I need approval for a project I want to do” she replied calmly 

“why him, wouldn’t you go through a TA or someone in administration?” he asked, turning to talk to her directly.

Dr Howard smiled again, as he signed the papers she handed him. “that, would be the case,” he answered for her “if she was an Under Grad” he must have looked perplexed because the professor continued “Amanda is a Grad student, therefore she reports directly to me, for these matters, she came to us from IU, after graduating from one of the top private schools in the state” he puffed up a bit proudly at that part, she smiled indulgently.

This time he looked at her much more closely, yes he could tell everything about her but, he knew that would neither surprise, nor impress her. She seemed to advertise everything. She wore a t shirt with a math joke on it, her jeans were cut off about mid thigh (neither provocatively short, nor unfashionably long.) scrawled all over them were complex equations, or at least, he conceded, partial equations. Hands; ink stains on both hands, slight smudging on the left, but she was using her right, ahh ambidextrous, interesting, nails clean, short and unpolished. No jewelry; slightly fidgety, practical, she would be toying with any she wore, and not overly sentimental, no earrings gifted or otherwise. Clothes, all in all, nothing expensive but good quality, carelessly tended but clean. Trainers showing a bit of wear from use, legs under the shorts toned, arms small but defined. Runner, at a guess. The messenger bag at her side also telling, mathematical statements and symbols written neatly all over it, fascinating, the jeans the writing was hasty, scrawling and chopped off; the bag it was neat, flowing, clear a bit of an artist. One she must use as decoration, the other was a surface to write on, hm, he would have to remember that.

He chuckled slightly while looking at her shoulder, she favored him with a smile. “25.8069758” her smile brightened as he said that, “the root of evil” as Dr Howard handed her back her papers, on an impulse he asked her, “dinner?” 

she quickly scans the paper in her hand and looks up at him smiling   
“I know just the place”   
~~~~~~~~~

 

One more step, she is sitting on the floor, he can feel Johns eyes on his back, trying to puzzle out why he is behaving the way he is. For his own part he doesn’t know if he wants to run up the stairs as fast as he can, or stand and watch those familiar hands writing on whatever surface happens to be available, just like he remembers.   
~~~~~~~`

He takes some of the books she is carrying, so both of them have a hand free, and offers her his arm. She takes it as they walk out of the room, Dr Howard smiling behind them. “how does an 18 year-old manage to be a graduate student?” he asks intrigued. 

“simple, I guess, I graduated from high school at 13, went to IU, for undergrad study, last year I enrolled here for grad school” his eyebrow raised slightly as she spoke

“so, this isn’t even your first year in grad school, fascinating” 

He pulled his arm aside to open the door for her, walking silently as she said hi to a couple girls on the steps. As she replaced her hand on his arm the girls smiled at him, a mix of amusement, sympathy, and intrigue playing on their faces, as they watched them walk off. This look seemed to be common to the girls that they ran across, the boys, looked at him with a mix of pride and jealousy, unexpected, everyone seems to genuinely like her. 

A boy about his age runs their way, “Amanda! Hey, I thought that was you earlier.”

“Travis!” she replies brightly as she hugs him, “I didn’t realize you were in town yet” as they talked he took stock of the man standing in front of him, tall, a full hand taller than him, muscled and tanned an athlete, top athlete by the way he carried himself. “oh joy, one of those” he thought, as the boy reached out to shake his hand, he obliged. 

“Amanda and I grew up together, she may as well be my little sister” he chuckled “any way, you two have fun, I have to head to practice” with that he ran off the way he came.

“he fancies you” he told the girl next to him 

“Travis? I doubt that” she quickly dismissed the idea

“The way his pupils were dilated, the way his lips were slightly parted, add into that the fact that he couldn’t keep his hand off of his hair, he was clearly flirting” he responded, to the dismissal more than the statement itself

“um.. Sherlock”

“then there is the fact that he went out of his way to come over here to talk to you, even though you are with a boy he doesn’t know, it could be that he is being a ‘protective big brother’” he said similarly to Travis’s statement he looked over at her to see her trying to fight back a giggle “what” he demanded

“he wasn’t looking at me, when he was flirting” she said laughing lightly at his realization.   
~~~~~~

Standing in the hallway leading into her flat, the moment of truth, a couple steps and he would be at her door, he knows she would recognize his voice, how could she not, he also knows she is absorbed in her work and doesn’t notice him watching her, remembering her. Her hair is longer than he remembers, almost the same color as john’s, thinking how similar the two of them feel in his life, like they are both meant to be there. Everyone else feels, wrong somehow, but not these two, these two are as much a part of who he is as they are friends, or lovers in one case.   
~~~~~

 

She walked over to a table overlooking the water, as he followed her. Both of them dressed for the heat so it wasn’t unpleasant being outside, they had a light dinner as they talked.

“why did you agree to dinner with me?” he asked casually, around bites of his salad “obviously you could be dining with any number of men, or even women” since he had noticed that she didn’t seem to react differently to either gender. 

She flashed him an amused smile “you haven’t figured that yet” she teased lightly “try it, and see how close you can get”

He sighed, and suddenly realized how well she did conceal much of her motivation by advertising exactly what she wanted others to see. Sitting back in his chair he looked at her again, more closely, and thought back to the conversation. After a couple minutes of looking at her amused smile he started,  
“you didn’t pay me any more attention, than anyone else here, at first at some point in the conversation something changed. It had to be something I did, not something I said”   
at her nod he thought about everything he did 

“you didn’t pay me any attention, until you found out that I am in grad school, before you knew I am a genius, you didn’t care, after that I had your undivided attention.”

“meaning that I don’t care what you look like, just how smart you are” he started, then paused “no, because you know that physical attraction will have to play at least a small part in it. It was the fact that I was interested in a genius, for the genius itself, by that line of thinking you knew I had to be one as well” he smiled at her nod “but there is more, there is a physical attraction, and it seems to be growing as we speak, (my voice? Hm.. in part) (the conversation? larger, but not all of it yet.) when I deduced that your friend had a crush on you, even if it was the wrong person, you still responded to that” 

She smiled brighter, “amazing” she concedes, “that was amazing, that and the fact that you didn’t react strongly to his attraction to you, just that it wasn’t what you expected and you adjusted and went on. The term you are looking for is sepiosexual- a person that is sexually attracted to the intelligence of another” they start talking about more mundane things from there, nanotechnology, molecular microbiology, theoretical physics; normal things.  
~~~~~~

 

John right behind him asking him something, he knows there is something odd about his behavior right now, I will likely have to explain this when we get upstairs. He sighs and turns the corner, better to get himself centered before he does anything, he doesn’t want to react on sentiment. As much as he would love to walk in there and. No! stop that line of thinking, there will be time later, when he is alone. Those memories will have to wait, for now. He looks back at her one last time, noticing John looking at her, obviously thinking hard, before hurrying up the last flight of stairs. John scrambling to catch up after seeing him slow down. Couldn’t have been more than a few seconds.

~~~~~   
“Amanda Klien! Brian shouts, “you lucky bastard, you went on a date with Amanda Klien, the one girl that no one can get, on a date, let alone in bed, and you my friend have a chance to screw the hottest genius this school has ever had” he hands him a shot glass as he brags to everyone in the common room about how his roommate scored a date with Amanda.  
Several of the guys “high fived” him others offered congratulations, still others asked for details, expressing fantasies about what it would be like to screw a math major, some were pretty explicit. He smiled and drank everything passed to him. He would get a hit of something stronger as soon as his roommate was too drunk to notice what he was doing. Later sitting on his bed, with his needle in hand, the only thing he regretted was that she would never let him take her while he was high. It was a strange feeling no one openly hated him, yet, there was always a “yet”   
~~~~~~~

 

He flew up the final stairs to his flat above, his heart pounding in his chest john hot on his heels, he was moving fast enough that john couldn’t talk to him and keep up, until they were safely through the door two more steps, one more, landing two more steps to the door

he puts his hand on the door,  
~~~~~  
opening it for her, she has her hands full of both of their books, he has their dinner in one hand and two bags hanging from the other arm.   
They have been together for 2 weeks, now he understands why everyone likes her. She is genuinely nice to everyone, and has a knack for explaining the most difficult subjects in such a way as they seem simple, she is the perfect tutor.

“tonight” he thinks to himself, she has decided it is going to be tonight. He smiles at that, it has been a while since he has had sex, and the fact that she is brilliant, pliant, and creative; makes the prospect thrilling.  
She is bringing him back to her flat, under the pretext that she wants his help with a project. He smiles to himself, at that statement. Of course, the project will be to find out what I can do in bed and what we both like.   
The clothes she is wearing, the different scent she has put on, the way she bit her lip when she suggested it, all say to him, she wants sex.  
the fact that yet again, every part of this seems deliberate, that he would know what she wants even if she just walked into the room and looked at him, he still isn’t sure what to make of that.

He knows anyone that knows her, would know exactly what was on her mind, but she came to him in the lab, when she knew it would be just the two of them.  
Meaning she doesn’t want anyone else to know what is on the menu tonight, other than the takeaway that she had him pick up while she gathered both of their books and papers.

He knows what she is doing, she knows that he knows. This is all part of her game.  
They get through the door he looks around quickly, the room is immaculate, there is nothing on any surface in the first two rooms he sees. Slight residue of chalk, on the floor, hmm future reference, there are four, no five book cases in the sitting room alone, all full (no surprise there). 

He takes the two steps into the room and sets their food down on the coffee table in front of him and smiles. He turns to her and takes the books from her hands, and puts them on the end table. As soon as he sets them down he turns to her and sweeps her in a kiss, gently at first, he has to assess her interest. She eagerly kisses him back, unsurprised by his boldness.  
Nothing he did surprised her, nothing she did surprised him. 

He stops for a second and points that out to her. 

“hm, may have to test that theory” she whispers back to him. 

He laughs gently into her shoulder. She does know how to make him smile.  
He runs his hand under the soft fabric of her blouse, silk by the feel of it, soft, feminine, sensual, dressed the way she is, compared to the way she normally does, he knows this is serious for her, but not her first time.  
He unbuttons her blouse kissing his way down her body, gently, slowly make her want more. Sliding it off of her shoulders, as he stands up. Slipping his hand down her skirt locating the zipper as she starts to work on his shirt.  
The fabric falls to the floor, as he expected she steps out of it with no hesitation, she planned for this.

He sets his wallet on the coffee table, next to them, wouldn’t want to have to go rooting around the mound of clothes that is quickly piling up on her floor.  
She unfastens his trousers while he does that, and slides her hands down the side of his legs. He grabs a fistful of her hair and lifts her gently by it, when she is standing he kisses her again, her lips soft and warm against his.  
He pulls her head back and kisses the base of her throat. As she gasps softly under his lips, his free hand running down the front of her body, stroking her breast gently with the pad of his thumb. He moves her over to the sofa laying her down carefully. He lets go of her hair and stands over her gazing at her, reminding himself to go carefully, there will be time to experiment with her body later, if he is careful tonight.

She reaches her hand out and slips it into his pants she can feel him getting harder, how much he wants her. She takes his pants down slowly, still not moving from where he put her on the sofa. She strokes his cock with the back of her fingers. He steps out of her reach and pulls her knickers off, and settles to his knees next to her.  
He positions her carefully, and leans in his face buried between her legs. She sighs as he brushes his tongue across her clit gently at first, speeding up, listening to her moans and whimpers, stroking the inside of her thighs. When he feels her start to tense up he slips his tongue inside her, tasting her teasing her. He goes back up to her clit as she gasps, he slides a finger inside her she moans loudly as he takes her over the top with his mouth and hand, then he does it again.

Feeling his own erection straining between his legs, longing to be inside her. He reaches for his wallet, taking the condom out and sliding over his cock, before climbing on top of her wrapping his arm around her, and burying it deep into her, the sheer relief of finally being inside her and his own body takes over thrusting fast and hard over and over as she cums again, moaning into his shoulder his release a few moments behind. They lay there for a bit still entwined before either of them say a word. They kiss a few more times, before they eat dinner and   
~~~~~

 

“Sherlock!” John complains from behind him, “are you going to explain what on earth has gotten into you?” 

with a start he steps through the door realizing that the memory is quickly getting him aroused. John looks at him, something in his face must tell the story John stops dead behind him, and places a hand on the back of his shoulder.

 

~~~~~  
He is sitting at the table looking through him microscope, trying to determine what form of cells these are, she is next to him her computations quickly eating through the paper in front of her, including the pizza box on the chair next to her, and she has moved on to chalk, she is writing on the table, but she doesn’t want to disturb his work.  
It is too blasted hot in here, it is the second week of September summer is supposed to be letting loose of its iron clad grip, it apparently didn’t get that memo. He has his shirt off, in concession to the heat, it isn’t like she hasn’t seen him like that before.

She sighs again, and stops. He stops hearing the familiar scratch of the chalk beside him he raises an eyebrow at the sound of a pen being uncapped behind his ear. 

He chuckles “why not?” 

she say behind him amused,” I will clean it off of you once we are done”. 

he waves a hand absently in assent as she starts to write on his shoulder, working her way down his back, his eyes never leaving the microscope. He is still smiling this is just the first time, over the next several months this will become a common occurrence.  
~~~~~~~

 

John looks at him extreme concern obvious on his face, mixed with confusion. “What was that about?” 

“I, I know her”

“well thank god for the great Sherlock Holmes. however would I have figured that out without you?” 

He shoots John a sharp look 

“I am guessing you know her well, based on the state of your trousers” John continued “and the fact that you acted like you had been hit by a truck, leads me to believe that you didn’t expect to see her here, oh and not too sure what to do about it based on the way you tore through the door and threw yourself against it. You are acting like a school girl with her first crush Sherlock, when are you planning on telling me what the hell is going on with you?”

 

~~~~~~  
They are sitting in the lab. she is silent, he is talking, he thinks about looking up to see if she is even still there. No, of course she is still there, she is working on a complex problem of her own, he doesn’t even need to say anything. He asks the air for a pen she places one in his hand, he smiles, she hasn’t looked up at him.   
~~~~~

 

He looks at John, “I am not even sure where to start, but it does explain why Mycroft is so inordinately pleased with himself. Of course he would be, gaining the most gifted mathematician I have ever met would be worth any effort he put into it” John raised his eyebrow at the praise he leveled towards her.

“so, who is she? Other than ‘the most gifted mathematician,’ did you really just call her that?” 

 

~~~~~  
She looks at his arm, she sees the marks, even though he hasn’t used his arm in over a year the scars are still clear. She knows of course she knows? how can he explain this part of himself to her? She let him continue his tutoring arrangements, she isn’t concerned with who he has sex with, as long as he comes back to her, and is careful about it.   
She has seen him talking to David Mitchell, so she knows that it isn’t over, he can see her working through what this means. She turns around and walks away from him. Should he just let her? should he go after her? he decides to let her have her space, she needs to think this through, they can talk about it later.  
~  
He hasn’t seen her for a week, he walks into the room he knows she will be in. the smell of vanilla , chalk, and ink, and lemon cleaner combine, her scent. “how often?” she asks not looking up from the paper in front of her.

“Variable, it depends on my mood, availability, quality, and how much I trust my sources” 

she nods, “what do you use, and how careful are you about it” 

He sighs, “pills, whatever I can get hold of. Cocaine, and occasionally, heroin, alcohol ,l and cigarettes, mostly” he is speaking as matter-of-factly as he can. “As for careful, I only use my own kit, and I tend to only use one type at a time” 

“Tend?” she asks

“There have been a few occasions that, I had a drink or two before I shot cocaine. Seven to be exact, also taken more than one pill on four occasions, discounting cigarettes and nicotine patches, obviously” 

She nods again, he sits down behind her

Travis bursts into the room, grabs each of them by the arm and drags them to the corner, he opens the cupboard and shoves both of them in quickly. “stay quiet and don’t move” he looks panicked, “I will see what I can do but, this isn’t going to be good” he kisses Amanda on the cheek and him on the lips, looking into his eyes briefly, he closes the cupboard 

They hear the entire thing: a male voice “Where is he Travis, where the hell did that little bastard go?” 

“Rob calm down, what are you doing” 

“don’t tell me what to do Travis that little shit told Miranda that I slept with Jenna, bastard can’t get away with doing shit like that”

“Rob you did sleep with Jenna, and you know how he is, just let it go man”

“LET IT GO” Rob screamed “the bastard screwed it up for me, now neither girl will talk to me” 

Travis was talking again, he sounds like he is trying to drag the conversation out, why would he be doing that? oh! He thought, brilliant. The boy has a weapon, and Travis knows he won’t use it on him, clever, he is trying to buy the time for someone else to show up, keeping him just mad enough to keep talking to him, while not letting him go over the edge and stab or shoot him. Soon the sound they were all hoping for crossed the air>

“Robert Baxter! Travis Davis! Stop right there and keep your hands where I can see them, Robert put down the gun” he leaned over and kissed her on the back of her neck, to avoid showing how nervous he is. 

When everything quieted down he opened the door to the cupboard and took her back to her place, his dorm room was closer but he couldn’t guarantee that his roommate wouldn’t show back up before they were done.

As soon as she closed the door behind them she was on him kissing him and taking his clothes off.  
~~~~~

 

“yes, I did just call her that. If it involves numbers, she is the best. I have no idea what Mycroft offered her, to get her out of America, but she is worth every bit of it” 

John’s look of confusion just deepened, he sighed “we met almost 20 years ago, in Indiana; I never thought I would see her again, so I didn’t look. Now that I have it is a bit unexpected” 

“ahh, a bit of a fling in Uni? Never took you for the type, since girlfriends, how did you put it are ‘not my area’” 

“yes. And now you see why” he stormed out of the room.

“You do realize you are going to have to talk to her soon, she lives directly below you” john’s voice followed him into his room, as he collapsed onto the bed   
~~~~~~

 

They are outside, on a park bench she is reading, he is laying with head in her lap, she is stroking his hair absently, his fingers pressed together under his lip. He is thinking of what would happen if she came back home with him, mummy would love her, she is clever enough to impress her, charming enough for mummy to adore her, and pretty enough to be on the arm of her son, she is also strong willed enough to not let him run over her, and patient enough to deal with him. Mycroft would find her useful, and probably like her better than he likes his younger brother, father though, it all comes back to his father, his father would never allow one of his children to be seen in public with someone so “common” an involuntary shudder crosses him, thinking about what his father would be capable of doing to the girl whose leg is under his head. 

That is why he went after Victor in the first place, Victor came from a good family, old money, even if Victor was the one that introduced him to drugs and showed him how to hide his use. Victor would be safe from his father. She misreads the reaction and takes off her jacket laying it over his shoulder like a blanket. Never has he wished so hard that his father was different from what he is, or dead. 

~It’s 3 years later, he is standing at the graveside while they bury the man, there are so many people here, none have shed a tear over the man, least of all his wife and two sons, they respected the man, and the name he gave them but, they hated him just the same. He thinks back to that moment in Indiana with the pretty girl that was brilliant enough even for him and considers trying to find her again, maybe now he is free from the man in the ground at his feet. He looks up at his brother, seeing the same dark auburn hair as the dead man, his father’s eyes looking at the grave. both of them had built so many walls around themselves, to protect them from him, neither one would likely ever be able to tear them down. he realizes he will never be free of that man, neither of them will ever be free.~  
~~~~~~

 

The next day Lestrade shows up at his door with a new case, there is something strange about it and he needs Sherlock and John to look at it. The door is still open as Mycroft strides through it smiling, it appears to be a genuine smile and, he is aware of why now.

“Please, don’t bother me right now, as you can see I am busy”

“Actually I didn’t come here to see you, but since I was nearby I decided to see what my little brother was doing” 

“ahh yes, you came to speak to Amanda. I see, was she worth the trouble?”

“so you have met your new neighbor, please do not trouble yourself over her and whatever you do” he said his voice growing cold “do not run her off, she is a very valuable employee, and I will not replace her because you could not keep your mouth closed for five minutes”

“actually, I am used to dealing with him, and his eccentricities. Even if that was a long time ago. He, of all people, couldn’t have changed that much ” came the soft, and very well remembered voice behind Mycroft  
“what” she says at the look on his face, “you think I could have forgotten your voice”

She steps into the room, around his brother, as graceful as ever, another thing that surprised him when they first met, he looks at her, she doesn’t seem to have aged much at all. They are looking at each other, appraisingly circling each other, he knows how evenly matched they really are in this, even though she barely comes up to his shoulder. 

“I would have thought you would have forgotten that whole year as ‘uneventful’” he says, before he can stop himself. 

“hard to call it ‘uneventful’ when you have nearly gotten shot once or twice, stabbed at least a half dozen times”

“once or twice?” he counters, “you are supposed to be the ‘math wiz’”   
~~~~~~  
They are sitting on the steps, Brian is walking up to them, “so” he says smiling “that is why I don’t have a roommate anymore, he has hooked up with the ‘Math Wiz’”

They are in the library, when a freshman walks over to them, and looks at her nervously, “if you aren’t too busy later, I need some help with physics and everyone says you are a ‘math wiz’” 

They are in the lab, she is taking notes for his experiment, when Dr. Stanley walks is, “it is nice to see that my favorite scientist and my little ‘math wiz’ are working together, but is there any way I could use my own lab for a day or two?” he says smiling brightly taking the sting out of his words, she giggles and he smiles fondly at her  
~~~~~~~  
“yes, once or twice, I’m not sure if Rob would have shot, or not if he knew I was there, too” 

He stops cold at that, how had she known that he was thinking about that yesterday? 

“15: love, Sherlock” she says right in his ear “it’s to you” she smiles as she backs up from him.

He takes a moment to compose himself, thinking of an opener to the next round of their game   
~~~~~~  
It surprised him that she enjoys tennis, she really is an athletic person, he thinks that it is a way for her to burn off excess energy more than anything else, he has to admit it seems to work, she doesn’t get bored nearly as easily as he does. He is watching her play against another girl from his year, the older girl is another one that he knows. She is one of the one’s willing to trade tutoring, for sexual favors. He does seem to be a popular tutor here, both sexes seem to find his “assistance” appealing. Apparently the rumor has gotten around that his tutoring is worth the sex, and the sex is worth the tutoring. It doesn’t hurt that what he demands isn’t so much sexual favors, as tutoring of another sort, sex is a useful tool for a public official from an important family, secrets can be learned, bargains made, if you are a good enough lover, and he takes sex just as seriously as any other subject that he studies, he figured out quickly that the arrangement he made would fascinate her, more than shock her.  
It did surprise him when she offered to take notes for him and put together a chart of the statistics for him. Leave it to Amanda to turn even sex into an equation, he chuckled to himself at that, he turned it into another experiment, so why not have her track it. Turning back to the tennis match, he saw the girls both walk up to the net and shake hands. He frowned at himself, he didn’t even know who had won.   
~~~~~~~  
He looked at her, and huffed, she laughed at him. Just the way he remembered. 

“well it isn’t like you are the only woman that has ever been in my life” he say, regaining his composure, stalking around the room

“oh, I know that, remember I was your ‘research partner’ for a year” 

“of course you know it was just for research” he says calmly as he paces the room, up and over the coffee table and across the sofa  
~~~~~~~  
It is late, near the end of November, everyone else has left the school, it is a holiday weekend, she has had friends offer if she wants to spend the time with them. She declines all of them. he obviously won’t be going home to his family, of course, this is an American holiday, she doesn’t have a family, anymore and isn’t quite willing to explain why yet, she will soon enough.

He wakes in the middle of the night, the bed is cold and empty, he hears the light scratching sound coming from the front room, she is writing on the floor again, in chalk. Her habit of writing on whatever surface happens to be near her hand still amuses him, but he is concerned for her.

he gets up and slips a dressing gown on against the slight chill, and opens the door. She is sitting on the floor, her head bent into the equation growing across the entire floor. How long has she been awake? Her hair falls around her shoulders as she brushes it behind her ear. She looks cold he takes his dressing gown off and starts to walk towards her. 

Without looking up she stops him “if you mess up my equation I won’t kiss you for a month” he scans the room quickly and smiles, well another game for him. He quickly walks over to the chair stepping over the only set of chalk markings in the way, he steps on the chair and crosses to the coffee table, she is looking up at him perplexed, he gives her his “I won this round” smile, walks across the sofa and crosses the clear floor over to her, and lays his dressing gown over her shoulders, with a kiss.

Not a speck of chalk out of place. She laughs delighted at his antics, that sound will never leave his dreams.  
~~~~~  
She opens her mouth to say something, but quickly closes it as he moves, he tries to take advantage of her surprise, but the memory flooding back leaves him speechless as well. “15:15, yours” is all he can croak out, his voice unfamiliar to his own ears. 

“are you fighting, flirting, dancing, or playing tennis” John complains, indignantly next to him 

He smiled, his back to both of them, he knew what he response would be.

Sure enough, “or?” she said sweetly, “you act as if there is a difference” 

“everything is a game, of some kind, isn’t it?” she continued, the world closing off again just the two of them the other three men in the room becoming nothing but a distant thought in both of their minds as they continued. 

“if it isn’t a game, it is boring, haven’t you paid attention to anything I ever said”

“most of the time? No, not really, you just seem to keep talking.” She countered 

“then it is your own fault that you don’t understand, what I am trying to tell you”

“oh I understand, as long as you are right, but then, how often is that again” 

of course she would remember that  
~~~~  
now he is trying to work through an algorithm, frustrated that the answer seems to be escaping him at the moment, it is cold and she has taken his place at the microscope on the table. He has a paper due the next day and can’t seem to find the answer, but he doesn’t want to ask her for help, again.  
It is looking more and more like he is going to have to, since he can’t wrap his head around this. She looks up from the microscope and raises an eyebrow at him, an invitation, he knows it. She is more than willing to help him, in fact she is already, the thread she is looking at, and plotting out on the chart next to her hand, she is working on so that he can get through this stupid assignment. He shakes his head irritably, he knows he will ask her for help but he isn’t ready to admit it, just yet.   
Then he sighs, reminding himself that if she walks him through this, he can get back to things that are more interesting sooner. She read his sigh it seems, since he feels her hand on his shoulder as she reaches over him with the other one guiding him through the problem and explaining the things that he is having trouble with, she makes it sound so easy he is amazed that he didn’t understand it before.

As soon as he finishes her hand has never left his shoulder, now it starts working down his back, caressing him as she starts kissing his neck while unbuttoning his shirt  
~~~~~  
his own body betrays him with that memory, she is careful to play by the rules of their little match as she gets as close to him as she can without touching him “30:15, your court” 

he can feel her breath caress his neck. He takes a moment to compose himself before he starts again. Two can play at that game, he thinks smiling.   
~~~~~  
She is curled up on the sofa reading. He walks in with two drinks and hands her one, he sets the other one on the coffee table and lays down on the sofa, his head on her lap. She adjusts herself so that his head is in her lap, and starts stroking his hair, it feels so good he is almost purring.  
He takes the book out of her hand and starts to read it to her, she relaxes back into the sofa as she continues to stroke his hair, he knows how much she loves this. he also knows what this is going to turn into. She really loves to listen to him talk, he decides to set up an experiment, and see what is going to happen if he talks her through sex.   
~~~~~  
“You seemed to pay attention at certain times, or have you forgotten that” he lowers his voice to the tone he knows she will react to and smiles as she gets visibly flustered, “so” he thinks as he walks over to her, “I’m not the only one thinking about the past” 

“30:30” he sings cheerfully into her ear, “your serve” 

She looks at him and smiles, knowingly 

She takes a step closer to him, neither one of them will touch the other, or interrupt the other during these exchanges, that is all part of the game they are playing, but she is so close to him he has to work to avoid accidentally touching her, he knows that this is how he likes her to finish the game.  
Adding in the physical proximity to escalate the sexual tension, as well as the fact that he has to think about where her body is and acknowledge her curves, and every aspect of who she is just to play the game.  
He looks down at her and realizes that she is not dressed the way he remembers, they have both grown up, if he tries to look at her, he will be looking down her blouse, she has the top two buttons undone giving him the perfect view of her bra and cleavage. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, it barely was with Irene, but this is Amanda, she is part of who he is in a way The Woman, could never be, the only other person that has ever been as close is also standing in the room, he thinks briefly that one of the reasons he opened up to John the way he did was because he reminded him of this girl, now a woman. He knows that his smile is one everyone else in the room is not used to out of him, as he brightens at the thought of what is going to happen next

She smiles back, they both know the rest of the game is just for show, she is going to win.

“You seemed to like it when you could do something better than I could, not that there was much. I still have the results of some of your experiments to prove that” she purrs back to him 

He waves his hand dismissively “there were so many experiments from that year, that I could do without the results of one or two” he turns and takes a step away so she doesn’t see the way his eyes are dancing 

“I am surprised at you, how could a scientist ever decide that any data is expendable, whether it was collected by you or… she lets the thought trail off”   
~~~~~~  
They were both tutoring him, she had never asked for anything, even though he knows this boy is more interested in her. he looks at him and explains what he wants this part of the experiment to be, the boy’s blush is amusing given what they have done in the past week.

Most of the time, she took notes, every once in a while he asked her to participate while he records it. He needs to see if it is different coming from a woman. They end up in her bedroom, he is watching everything without being intrusive, they agree that it is better if it seems to be that the other person is enjoying the show more than recording the result.

This time that is exactly what is happening, he is perfectly built for either one of them, and both of them are attracted to him. He knows this and that makes him more relaxed during the experience. Although he has to admit, watching her suck, his student leaves him excited, and watching the boy react is significantly different, he seems to be more open to explaining what he wants her to do, but less likely to give details as they go along.   
She is having to go on what he has said in the past for details, he reaches down his own shaft and gives it a stroke deciding that it is about time he got involved   
~~~~~  
“that data could be valuable” she says taking a single step after him and smiling. 

She steps right up to his shoulder “game” she draws the sound out slightly as he spins and takes her in his arms and pushes her against the nearest wall kissing her fiercely; it has been so long since he has felt those lips on his.

He comes back to himself they are both laughing “I have missed you, so much” she says, her arms around his neck he smiles into her shoulder and kisses it before turning back to the room and the men that are standing there stunned, even his brother is speechless at their display, though his brother, predictably, was splitting his attention between Amanda and John.  
he was noting the similarities as well as the differences, where John’s movements were stiff and precise Amanda was fluid and graceful, a dancer, his dancer, next to a soldier, his soldier. 

Both of them, attentive to every movement in the room, just as they had been trained to be.  
Hair so close in color you would be hard pressed to know what had been trimmed from which head.  
Both looked at him with the same amused affection, they both loved him, in their own way.   
Even their eyes are close to the same color, she looks more like John than even Harriet does, one would never guess that she isn’t his sister, unless you had heard both of them speak, as Amanda is distinctly American. 

“the case” Lestrade croaks out after a few moments. 

“of course” he replies 

“well we found this list on one of the bodies, I was wondering if you could make anything of it” 

He reads the list aloud, confusion from everyone except Amanda, “TV shows” she says as everyone turns to her she continues “they are all popular shows from America, but different channels, different stars, different genre’s, different studios. what would they have in common? “ her eyes light up, “unless” 

“unless?” Mycroft asks

“can I use a computer for a minute?” she asks 

“ya, use mine, since Sherlock can’t seem to be bothered to go to his room to get his” john answers and they sit down on the sofa as she starts typing something john looks up and smiles at him, “she is good, Sherlock” 

“yes!” she cries as everyone leans over her shoulder to see what they are looking at.

“eBay?” says Lestrade

“Of course” he replies “memorabilia being sold on eBay. We would never have thought of it not knowing that they are American shows, but since Amanda is from America she would be familiar with all of them” he is leaning in with his arm almost around her waist, no one misses that fact, especially not Mycroft 

She passes the laptop back to john and stands “now if you will excuse me, I have my own work to get back to, and Sherlock, we can talk about what I won later” he stands and offers to walk her back downstairs, she smiles and graciously accepts 

As he turns away from her door, he hears a tell tale creak on the stairs, he knows his brother will want to talk to him about this. 

He turns from her door to see he was correct, his brother is standing on the step above him, the look on his face says everything. “explain, Sherlock!” his brother demands, anger barely suppressed 

“Notre Dame” is all he is willing to offer, in way of an answer, as he pushes past his brother, and back up to his flat. 

“Sherlock” Mycroft’s hand reaches out to grab his arm and pin him there, obviously he needs to know more, “why haven’t you ever mentioned this before now?” he demands. 

“really Mycroft?” his eyebrow arches mockingly, “you can’t figure that out for yourself?”

Mycroft still has hold of his arm, standing on the step above “father?” at his quick nod, more of a jerk of his head, Mycroft releases the anger he is holding, if not the arm. 

“you, of all people, know what would have happened” he hisses in his brother’s face. 

Mycroft’s hand tightens and he can see the pain shadow through his eyes. The memories of a day neither one will ever forget.

 

~~~~~~  
his brother’s screams of pain, cut through the silence of the early morning.  
He is standing in front of his father, as the man calmly lectures him on “family duty” “obligation and “station in life”. He had no idea where this was coming from, and why this morning until he hears his brother’s scream. His father’s face never changes, as he circles the young boy in front of him.   
His brother slams into the room, tears streaming down his face.  
His heart leaps when he sees his brother’s eyes, this is why his father has him in here. Even though at 13 he isn’t even, remotely, concerned about any of this himself. Mycroft puts himself between his father and his brother.

“Sherlock, leave us” Mycroft hisses never looking away from the man in front of him, “this has nothing to do with you and, even if I couldn’t protect Steven, I can protect you” 

“No Sherlock, you will stay, you need to understand, why family duty matters” his father says coldly, never taking his eyes off of his older son. 

He knows what is going on right away, but to the boy’s young mind, he tries to hide the truth from himself, but he can’t.  
Steven is (“was" his mind corrected, as Mycroft’s words and the look on his face tell him) Mycroft’s lover at Uni, they have (had) been together for almost a year. He had met Steven on several occasions; he likes (“liked”, he amended to himself. having trouble grasping the fact that the young man is dead. Obviously, his father had something to do with his death)  
his father, is expecting this confrontation, that is why he collected his younger son, to have this discussion, and why he didn’t react to his older son’s, heartbroken screams. That is why he had the boy standing in the middle of the room, so there was room for Mycroft to enter, and even left room between them for his brother to try to protect him from this reality of what their family is, what their father is.  
He knew what Mycroft was going to say, and exactly how he was going to respond to him.

His father walks around his brother slowly, clearly bored by this turn of event, as if Mycroft had come in to complain that they were out of milk, instead of the murder of his lover. He grabs the boy’s arm harshly, though not as painfully as he has in the past, and guides him over to the chair and pushes him into it. “so”, he thinks to himself, “I am to be an audience” his father stands and turns back to his older son.

“A car accident!” Mycroft demands, his pain and fury evident on his face and in his voice. 

“of course” his father replies, ”what else would it have been called” his father replies coolly, waving a hand dismissively, “you and that, common, boy were getting too close. ” the way his father said the word common made it sound like being “common” was worse than the excrement of a wormy dog. 

“I love that,’ common boy’” Mycroft shouted back at him

Their father smiled coldly as he stalked up to his son, they were of a height so his harsh eyes were a mere breath away. when he stated simply “loved” before turning to look at the youngster sitting uncomfortably “loved” he repeated to both boys. The look of sheer hatred that Mycroft gave his father made him sit further back into the chair. “he was unsuited to your station, you needed to understand that” 

“you murdered the man I love, to prove a point?” 

“of course not, I would never let my hands get dirty, with such unpleasantness” 

“unpleasantness!” his brother screamed

“yes, unpleasantness, that is all this is” his father stated back sharply. He could see his father starting to get angry, and wished he and his brother could be anywhere, but here. He wanted to protect his brother from this man, but how could he, he couldn’t protect Mycroft from the death of his lover, at the hands of the man in front of him, how could he protect the brother he loves from his anger. 

“there was no reason for him to be anywhere near that street” Mycroft shot back accusingly 

“there was, if he thought the boy he is in, an indecent, relationship with is in danger” the older man said levelly 

“how dare you, you used me to arrange his death!” his brother shouted “he never did anything to you, he was perfect for me” pain making the words catch in his throat “I have done everything you demanded of me, I gave you everything you wanted, why was I not allowed this one thing” 

“because this one thing, is what I demand of you, now” his father replies quickly, closing the space between them again “and if you wish to forget that fact, I will be forced to remind you. remember this, never forget, you are a Holmes, you are my son, I own you, both of you, and everyone else near you” with that he stormed out of the room. 

Mycroft dropped to the floor sobbing, as soon as the door closed behind their father, he jumped up and wrapped his small arms around the crying man on the floor in front of him.  
Laying his cheek on the back of his brother’s shoulder.  
Mycroft reached his hand up and held onto his arm, he normally would be the one to comfort the younger boy, but now he needed to be the one comforted.   
Neither one of them know how long they sat like that, Mycroft shaking with sobs, Sherlock holding him, trying to offer something, even knowing that, nothing he could do would ever cut through his brother’s grief.   
At some point she comes in, and guides both of her boys to his brother’s room. she brushes her hand across her older son’s face, wiping some of his tears away with her hand.   
They all curl up on the bed, Mycroft in the middle, like they did so often when he was little and would wake from a nightmare.   
This time she is trying to shield her older son, but it is a nightmare he will never wakes from.  
He curls up to his brother’s back, the same way his brother would with him, as Mycroft cries into his mother’s shoulder, they lay there all afternoon, trying to protect him, knowing how hopeless a situation this is for the man, little more than a boy himself.  
~~~~~

The two men look at each other on the stairs, “Sherlock” his brother starts, “she is only here, temporarily. Can you afford to lose her again?” he asks softly. 

He looks at his brother, and calmly replies “could you” before he walks back upstairs to help finish the puzzle his friends have brought to him. He stops halfway up the stairs “if you were given one more day with Steven, is there anything that could keep you from taking it?” he asked without looking at his brother or waiting for a reply

 

~~~~~~  
He is looking at her, she won’t look up to meet his eyes, he knows what he did to her, what they both did to her, but he knows he is the one that caused her the greater pain. how could she stay mad at the boy they are saying goodbye to?  
He has paid for his mistakes, for their mistakes. all they told her was that one boy died, and one survived, when they picked her up and took her to the morgue, to identify the body. He can’t imagine what it would have been like for her, she must have hated herself for wishing that it was David that was dead, and not him.   
She would have seen dark curly hair, she would have steeled herself, in preparation of seeing him laying there, dead on that slab, it would have taken her some time before she could nod at the attendant. She would have been relieved, at seeing David Mitchell’s body in front of her, she would have been angry with herself for that relief, she would be angry with him for causing this, she would be angry with David for putting him in so much danger. She left the cemetery without looking at him, she wasn’t at home when he went to pick up his things before returning to London, they never said another word to each other.  
~~~~~

 

until now

he will tell John everything tonight, he owes the man an explanation. well, he smiles to himself, maybe not everything.


End file.
